


Someday

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Aragorn and Legolas share a moment before the fall.





	Someday

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “40 (bc the world is ending) on the types of kisses prompt list for aragorn and legolas? before the final battle, when theyre sure theyre going to die and just want to express their love for each other one last time” request on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/176075204220/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Legolas is well aware that Aragorn needs his rest. Mortal flesh requires more time to refresh than that of elves, even for the Dúnedain, and they have a long ride ahead of them tomorrow with a harder battle at its finish. They’ll need every last bit of strength and energy that they can muster, because it might be their last chance, the last chance for everyone and everything they know. Out amongst the darkness of the night, weaving between the terrified and dread-filled soldiers, it feels as though their world’s coming to its end. That’s why Legolas slips into Aragorn’s tent, even though he told himself he wouldn’t. 

It’s late enough now that Aragorn is already stripped down for bed: he wears only a plain tunic and breeches, poised at the back of his larger tent, standing by the table. A goblet of clear water’s in his hand, but he lowers it when he sees Legolas. Legolas takes a moment to appreciate the sight of him, not as a great lord at the head of an army, but the simple man that Legolas first fell what now feels so long ago. He looks no more now than he did then: merely a ranger, albeit a particularly handsome one, bedraggled but intoxicating. His dark hair falls in ragged waves about his face, his chin dotted with stubble, purple lines beneath his eyes. He’s finally starting to show the marks of _age_ , perhaps spurred on by stress, but somehow, it only enhances his appeal. Legolas appreciates his portrait. 

Aragorn finishes his drink, sets his goblet down on the table, and asks, “What can I do for you, Legolas?”

A good many things. Too many things, but none of them can be promised now. Legolas lingers a moment more, simply drinking in this view while it lasts. Then he breaks the spell and crosses the tent, coming right to Aragorn’s side. His arm slips around Aragorn’s side, hand splaying against Aragorn’s shoulder blades, and his face tilts to brush their lips together. He presses into Aragorn with warm affection and a growing need. His eyes fall shut as he sinks into the kiss, and Aragorn leans into him in return. 

The kiss is chaste but long, and when they part again, Legolas feels marginally soothed. Not quite enough, though. It never is until they’re bare, sweat-slicked and glued together. Aragorn’s hand rises to Legolas’ face, calloused fingers threading back through his blond hair. Eyes fixed on his, Aragorn murmurs, “I have always thought you are loveliest at night.”

Legolas smiles. He resists the urge to tease: _Am I not lovely by day?_ Instead, he sighs, “Would that we could spare the energy to enjoy one another properly at our last: I would spend all tonight riding you, if I could help it. I would feel you in me for all the hours we had left, so that tomorrow’s ending might still be swamped in memories of this one.”

A grin stretches across Aragorn’s gorgeous face, a faint but visible blush spreading over his chiseled cheeks. He looks as lovely in the low candlelight as he does beneath the stars. Legolas laments, “Alas, a kiss will have to do.”

Aragorn seems to answer by drawing his fingers down to curl beneath Legolas’ chin. His other arm loops around Legolas’ waist, pulling him in tight so that their chests are flattened together, Legolas feeling every breath and beat of Aragorn’s heart. Then Aragorn opens for a deeper kiss, one that sweeps Legolas off—he lets Aragorn’s tongue into his mouth with a guttural mewl and a swell of _pleasure_. Aragorn guides him through one lick and suck and nip after the other, fully claiming his mouth, until even he is left a little breathless. Their foreheads press together afterwards, bodies still held close.

“It may indeed be our last kiss,” Aragorn quietly admits, “but I will do everything within my power to make sure that it is not.”

Legolas doesn’t need to nod. He knows that Aragorn will. He has faith in his king, and he knows that if the world should end tomorrow, it won’t be through any fault of theirs. They will simply do all they can, right to the bitter end.

In the meantime, Legolas asks, “Might I lie with you tonight?” And for once, he means it innocently. Aragorn smiles, but he must understand. 

He murmurs, “I could not send you away if I wanted to.”

He extricates himself from Legolas’ arms only long enough to blow out the candles.

Then they retire to Aragorn’s bedroll together and enjoy one another’s company in dreams.


End file.
